


a view to a kill

by hedgehogwatch



Series: diamonds are forever [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drug lords, He won't, It's cliche, M/M, Murder Mystery AU, buckle up it's a wild ride, criminal junhui, detective joshua, informant wonwoo, joshua is lonely, joshua is the worst detective, mingyu just wants to spill the tea, set in 1996, there are too many shameless seventeen references, this ends badly, when will wonwoo let joshua live, wonwoo is a bad guy, wonwoo is a playboy, wonwoo is one rich dude, y'all know how that turns out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-21 14:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11946618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedgehogwatch/pseuds/hedgehogwatch
Summary: “Josh, I can’t sleep at night knowing that Junhui’s on the loose now. If he can break out of our highest-security prison, then he’s capable of anything. You just need to get Wonwoo to comply with you and give us some credible leads. It’ll be difficult... But I believe that, if anyone can do it, it’s you.You have a way with people.”





	1. meeting you with a view to a kill

**Seoul, South Korea**

**June, 1996**

 

Seungcheol throws the file on Joshua’s desk with an unceremonious thud. “You’re up, rookie,” he says, eyes red and lined by dark circles from countless nights of lost sleep. The Kwon Soonyoung case had driven everyone at the police department to the brink of insanity; they reminisced about the ‘good old days’ when the jewel heist was the biggest of their problems. “Look, I’m at the end of my rope,” the chief detective sighs as he sits down in the faux leather office chair on the other end of the room. “You know I’ve had my reservations about Jeon Wonwoo since the jewel heist case, but he’s our only hope at gathering more information on Wen Junhui.”

 

“Did he agree to it?” Joshua asks, taking the file in his hand. He had still been in training at the time of the jewel heist, so his memory of the exact details was blurry at best, but from what he remembered, several priceless jewels were stolen from an exhibit at the Museum of Natural History, and despite the fight he put up in court, the thief, Wen Junhui, was sentenced to ten years in prison.

 

“He did.” Seungcheol inhales and rests his elbow on the chair’s armrest with an exaggerated groan. “ _For a price_.”

 

Joshua bites his lower lip and worries it between his teeth. While he didn’t know much about Wen Junhui, he knew enough about Jeon Wonwoo just from Seungcheol’s complaining to write a biography. Apparently, Wen Junhui’s defense insisted that he had been at Jeon Wonwoo’s house at the time the jewels were stolen, therefore he could not have committed the crime. Seungcheol didn’t spare him any more details about the success of Junhui’s argument, but Joshua figured it must have been proven false if he was ultimately found guilty.

 

Furthermore, Wen Junhui- the slippery bastard- had somehow managed to escape from the nation’s most secure prison, merely thirty minutes before the death of billionaire software designer Kwon Soonyoung, making it difficult for both public and police alike to avoid pointing fingers.

 

“How much is he asking for?”

 

“Ten thousand dollars,” the black-haired man’s face twists into a scowl. “Said he was being generous. The guy really has the nerve to say that because he makes more money than me, his time is, therefore, more valuable.” He crosses his arms over his chest almost petulantly. “So that’s why I’m giving you this job.” A quick nod at the folder in Joshua’s hand instructs the younger detective to open it.

 

Seungcheol’s tired voice drones in the background as Joshua glosses over the file. “I need you to get Wonwoo to spill as much as he can about Wen Junhui and where he could possibly be now.” He shakes his head, “Josh, I can’t sleep at night knowing that Junhui’s on the loose now. We’re almost positive he was the one that murdered Kwon Soonyoung, and who’s to say he’ll stop there? If he can break out of our highest-security prison, then he’s capable of anything. You need to get Wonwoo to comply with you and give us some credible leads. It’ll be difficult,” Joshua looks up at his boss, and he can sense the pure desperation in his dark eyes, “But I believe that, if anyone can do it, it’s you. You have a way with people.”

 

Joshua nods slowly, realization setting in that not only will this be the first high-profile case he’s ever worked on, but that, should he fail, the safety of countless lives could be compromised with someone as dangerous as Wen Junhui freely roaming the streets. The more pressing issue, however, was that his job would most certainly be on the line. “I…” he pauses, not sure exactly how to respond. He’s nervous. Scared, even. But at the same time, he knows that there must have been much deliberation on Seungcheol’s part to have come to the decision to choose him for the case, which gives him the faintest sense of pride, especially since he’s been relegated to the most mundane and basic cases as of late. “I’ll do my very best, sir.”

 

“I need you to do more than your best, Detective Hong.” Seungcheol’s voice is firm, but Joshua knows it’s coming from a place of concern and commitment to his job. “I need you to help us get Wen Junhui behind bars for good.”

 

With a yawn, the chief detective stands up and looks around the room for a few moments, tapping his foot as though he wants to say something. Never in his years of training has Joshua seen the chief look this worried and unsure. Chief Choi had always been as strong and dependable as a rock- organized, caring, and never satisfied until the job is done right. Right now, though, he looks like the only thing keeping him alive is a steady stream of coffee and Red Bull, and Joshua wonders how much longer he can last in such a state. “I promise,” Joshua says, with more resolve this time. “I won’t let you down, chief.”

 

Seungcheol just gives him a small smile. “I know you won’t. But believe me when I tell you that Jeon Wonwoo is tricky. He’ll try to get in your head and mess you up. You’ve got to stay strong and on task.” He points a finger at Joshua, gravity clear in his eyes. “Your integrity is all you've got.”

 

“When is he coming for questioning?” Joshua asks, a sickening feeling settling in the bottom of his stomach. From what it sounds like, this guy is a force to be reckoned with, and he can only hope he’ll have adequate time to prepare the necessary questions, and more importantly, to steel his nerves.

 

“2 PM today.”

 

A small gasp escapes Joshua’s lips before he has a chance to realize what he’s doing. “2 PM? That’s in, like, an hour!” Quickly, he remembers that he’s speaking to his boss, and realizes that his tone was bordering on inappropriate. “Uh… I mean,” he clears his throat, “That’s not a lot of time for me to get ready, sir.”

 

“Then you better get to it, Detective,” Seungcheol shrugs, making his way to Joshua’s office door. “I realize it’s short notice, but we’re on his schedule, remember? And this was the only convenient time for him.” Joshua notes the distaste in the chief’s voice. “If you need more time or another meeting with him, I’m sure it can be arranged, but for now I need you to get what info you can.”

 

The auburn-haired man bites back a protest, instead just nodding his head again to avoid slipping up and saying something that’s out of line. “Yes, sir,” he exhales, running a hand through his hair. His eyes flicker back to the threatening yellow file on his desk, labeled ‘Wen Junhui’ on the side tab, and he can’t help but wish he’d gotten a file on Jeon Wonwoo instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer*  
> I know that parts of this fic might sound reminiscent of The Hanged Man by user theJuniorRoyals. While I absolutely adore that fic (pls go read it if you haven't!!), it just ended up being a happy coincidence that we ended up with similarly wild concepts. I did, however, reach out to them, and was given the green light to keep this one up. If you have any questions, or just wanna scream at/with me, hit me up on tumblr @thesoapclub or on twitter (I'm rarely on there tho) @thesoapclub1.  
> hope each and every one of you has a wonderful day (or night for ya party animals)!
> 
> lots of loooooove,  
> hedgehogwatch


	2. face to face in secret places

The flow of time is agonizingly slow as Joshua waits for the dreaded hour to come. He flips through the file, trying to memorize every important detail of the jewel heist case so that he’s armed with sufficient background to form competent questions and avoid asking unnecessary ones. From what he can gather, Wen Junhui is Chinese, from Shenzhen, specifically, and he’s a year younger than Joshua. “Kids these days,” Joshua mutters to himself as he continues to the section about Junhui’s childhood. There’s not much, as expected, just records of where he went to school and such, but from the looks of it, his upbringing was nothing like that of your average criminal. He graduated from an elite private school in Seoul, and attended the first two years of an equally prestigious university, only to drop out before his junior year.

 

Joshua bites the tip on his pen and stares at the mugshot from Junhui’s arrest for the jewel heist. His face is certainly handsome, with big, bright eyes and small, dainty lips, and Joshua wonders what future someone like him would have had if he hadn’t gone down the path of crime.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

 

“Detective Hong, Mr. Jeon is here.”

 

 _Great._ He set his pen down and picked up the file, deciding to take it with him in case he needed to reference it. “Just a moment,” he calls back as he hurries to the door and opens it. It’s Chan, the intern, and he looks just as worried as Joshua feels.

 

His eyes are wide, and he’s clawing at the sleeves of his sweater idly. “H-he’s in the interrogation room. Chief Choi even went the extra mile and had him handcuffed, just so you feel more comfortable.”

 

Joshua furrows his brows and looks at the shorter man suspiciously. “Why would he be handcuffed if he’s not dangerous?” Chan just shrugs and starts walking towards the interrogation room, Joshua following closely behind. “He’s… He’s not dangerous, is he?”

 

“No, I don’t think so,” Chan says, slightly unsure of himself. He leans in to whisper in Joshua’s ear, standing on his tiptoes to make up for the height difference. “He is pretty scary, though. Not in an obvious way. I saw him walking in, and he’s good-looking and all, but," he pauses, "I don't know, I get a weird vibe from him.” Quickly, he pulls away and points a thumb at the hallway leading to the different interrogation rooms. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, but be careful, yeah?” The younger man notices the way Joshua’s shoulders tense up, and he places a hand on his forearm reassuringly. “He’s in Room 3. Go get ‘em, boss,” he smiles, trying his best to seem optimistic.

 

Joshua wishes he was in Chan’s place right now, instead of preparing to face the beast. “Thanks. If I die, I bequeath my new PlayStation to you,” he chuckles nervously. It feels more like his breath is rattling in his chest than laughing, and he takes a deep breath to clear his lungs. He walks over to the door to Room 3 and reached out to grasp the handle. His sweaty palms slip off the smooth metal, and he has to wipe his hands on his pants before trying to open the door again. The beating of his heart in his ears is almost as deafening as the shrill squeak of the rusty hinges that the office just couldn’t afford to repair at the moment.

 

Budget cuts, and whatnot.

 

With careful footsteps, Joshua steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. The room is dark, save for a single spotlight over a long rectangular table. Jeon Wonwoo is seated with his back to the entrance, facing the opposite end of the room, and Joshua breathes a sigh of relief at the fact that he can get out a proper introduction without having to look the man in the eye yet. “Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon,” he begins as he makes his way to his seat. “I’m Detective Joshua Hong, and-” he stops the second he sees the man’s face.

 

He can feel the blood drain from his body as he realizes he’s seen those sharp cheekbones, that strong jaw, and those cunning eyes before, and that those perfectly shaped pink lips have roamed every inch of his skin.

 

A predatory grin spreads across Jeon Wonwoo’s face as he reclines back in the chair, eyes trained on Joshua as though he’s sizing up his prey. “My, my. It really is a small world.” His voice is deep and velvety, and as much as Joshua hates to admit anything good about the man who left him the morning after with only a note saying ‘ _Sleep well, Angel Face’_ , he can’t help but find it irresistibly attractive.

 

“M-Mr. Jeon, please,” Joshua stammers, realizing he finally has a name to put with the face in his memories. He tilts his head away from the man’s gaze, trying to hide his growing blush. “Let’s be professional, here.”

 

Wonwoo purses his lips, following Joshua’s every move as the detective sits down in his chair. “As you wish, Angel Face,” he smirks.

 

Joshua’s blush only deepens at the nickname, and he realizes he has to change the subject immediately to avoid further mortification. “I, uh, apologize for the handcuffs,” he says, pointing to the silver restraints around Wonwoo’s thin wrists. “The chief thought it was a necessary precautionary measure.”

 

“What about you?” Wonwoo asks, meeting Joshua’s eyes in a stare that practically begs for a challenge. “Do you think the handcuffs are necessary?”

 

 _It’s probably a trick question_ , Joshua reminds himself. But he has to admit, it does seem a little excessive. The man is coming in as a willful informant; he’s not a criminal. “N-no, not really,” he relents, voice light and shaky.

 

“Then take them off of me.” Wonwoo’s fingers drum against the surface of the table, creating a rhythmic echo through the room. Joshua’s attention darts to the man’s hands, long fingers fitted with several expensive-looking rings of all metals and gemstones. One diamond ring in particular, Joshua is certain, has to be no less than seventeen carats.

 

The detective draws in a breath and finds himself reaching in his pocket for the handcuff keys before he can even process the fact that he’s obeying this man so blindly. “Don’t make me regret it,” Joshua mumbles as he fiddles with the lock and removes the handcuffs, setting them on the table. “I’m doing this because I don't see the point in restraining someone who’s not dangerous.”

 

Wonwoo’s low chuckle fills his ears, and Joshua gets the feeling he’s not the one in control here anymore. “You’re so certain of that?”

 

Joshua opens his mouth to respond, then closes it and shakes his head. He needs to get the information and leave. There’s no time for this nonsense. “Sir, I need you to tell me about Wen Junhui. Anything you can.”

 

“What do you want to know?” Wonwoo tilts his head back, exposing the slightest hint of pale collarbones, and Joshua has to pry his eyes away as soon as possible.

 

“Well,” Joshua adjusts his glasses before opening the file and flipping to the trial notes. “Wen Junhui claimed to have been at your house the night of the jewel heist.” He looks Wonwoo in the eyes and tries his best to maintain a firm expression. “Was he?”

 

Wonwoo looks Joshua up and down before answering. “He was. But he left well before the reported time of the crime. That’s why his ‘alibi’ didn’t hold up in court. My home security system has a record of every time someone opens the door, as well as video footage of him leaving.”

 

Joshua nods. “And did he mention anything about stealing the jewels to you? Or did he say anything that would lead you to be suspicious?”

 

“We didn’t really do much talking,” Wonwoo says, raising his eyebrows suggestively, a ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips. “If you know what I mean.”

 

Joshua’s breath catches in his throat. “Y-yes, I, uh, understand,” he chokes. “Was that the only time he came over? Or was it a regular occurrence?”

 

Wonwoo shrugs casually. “Maybe twice a month? I don’t know.”

 

“What was the nature of your relationship with Wen Junhui?” Joshua isn’t entirely sure why he adds this next part, but he blames it on morbid curiosity. “Was it romantic or purely physical?”

 

“Purely physical.” Wonwoo catches the slight drop in Joshua’s shoulders and smiles indulgently. As naturally as breathing, he swings his legs to rest on top of the table and settles back into the chair with his hands behind his head. He does his best to suppress a laugh at Joshua’s reaction, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Why, are you jealous?”

 

“N-no, not at all!” Joshua all but shouts.

 

That earns him a laugh from Wonwoo. “Is that so?” He cocks his head to the side and runs his tongue across his teeth, and even in the dim lighting, Joshua can see how white and unnaturally straight they are. “Because just now, you sounded more like a lovesick teenager than a detective.”

 

“Sir,” Joshua sighs, exasperation crystal clear in his voice as he glances at Wonwoo’s feet on the table. “I just need the facts. I don't want this to drag on any longer than it has to, so please,” he begs, “Work with me here.”

 

“Then ask the right questions, _Detective_.” Wonwoo draws out the last the last word almost in condescension. “But be careful,” he chuckles lowly, “Time is money, and you're already running up quite a tab.”

 

Joshua frowns, remembering the cost of this session. Perhaps it wasn't the smartest idea to begin on a topic that, while probably necessary at some point, wouldn't provide the essential information he needed for this particular case at the moment. He straightens his tie and leans over the table, hoping that his posture would radiate more confidence than his voice did. “How do you know Wen Junhui?” he asks, keeping his tone as even as he can manage.

 

The man across from him crosses one long leg over the other, still arrogantly resting them on top of the table. “We went to school together from fifth through twelfth grade.”

 

For some reason, the concept of a ten year old Jeon Wonwoo has a difficult time computing in Joshua’s brain. He can only imagine the man lording over the playground, charging five bucks for kids to go down the slide.

 

He remembers that the school Junhui entered was one of the most expensive in the country, meaning that Wonwoo must have grown up wealthy as well. That doesn't come as too much of a surprise, though, given his entitled nature.

 

Joshua clicks his tongue and opens the file once more to locate the exact name of the school. “Pledis Academy,” he reads. Something nags at him in the back of his mind, though. He's certain that someone else, someone important, went to that same school, but he can't for the life of him remember who it was. “That’s the school you and Junhui graduated from, correct?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“What kind of student were you?”

 

Wonwoo rubs the back of his neck and stops to think about his answer for a few seconds. “I was second in my class, but I didn’t spend my whole life studying. School came almost too easily to me, and I knew that whether or not I did well, I had family money to fall back on, so I wasn’t mexactly stressed about academics.”

 

Then it hits Joshua. Kwon Soonyoung, the case’s victim, killed two days ago by a sniper during a keynote speech at a conference with several international leaders in technology. He had been reported to have attended Pledis Academy before starting his company at the tender age of eighteen. Considering his suspected murderer went to the same school and was, presumably, in the same grade, Joshua is certain that Wonwoo must have some useful information about not only Junhui, but Soonyoung as well.

 

A triumphant smile settles on Joshua’s lips as he realizes he now has a conclusive line of questioning to cast at Wonwoo. “And what about Kwon Soonyoung? Did you know him?”

 

There’s a faint, but undeniable shift in Wonwoo’s posture, a tightening of the jaw and darkening of the eyes. He closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them again, focus directed away from Joshua for the first time since he entered the room. “I did. He was good friends with Junhui and myself.” His voice is clipped, and Joshua senses the way the other is straining to maintain an even tone.

 

“What was Soonyoung like?” Joshua asks. A selfish part of him secretly enjoys seeing Wonwoo thrown off-center for once, to see a break in his facade.

 

Wonwoo takes a deep breath before removing his legs from the tabletop and settling back in his seat. He leans over the table, propping his chin up on his fist. “I’ll be honest with you,” he says in a hushed voice, “Everyone sees- well, _saw_ \- Kwon Soonyoung as this creative kid who worked hard to achieve his success, but I knew another, very different side of him.” Slightly, he pulls back, gripping the edge of the table, and his glittering rings flash brightly under the spotlight. “I’m not saying he was a bad person, but he certainly had his vices. He had a difficult time finding healthy ways to deal with stress, and turned to,” he taps a finger to his chin, “Less than legal methods of coping.”

 

“Drug addiction?”

 

“Yes.” The corners of Wonwoo’s lips turn upward for a brief second, puzzling Joshua. He’s not sure what part of Soonyoung’s drug addiction could possibly bring joy to the man, but he decides to ignore that for now. “It was his best-kept secret. Took it to his grave, in fact. Only Junhui and I knew.”

 

Joshua’s brows knit together in thought. This is certainly new information that could potentially be a major factor in cracking this case and tracking down Junhui. If Junhui knew Soonyoung’s darkest secret, then that gave him a leg up on him should the question of blackmail ever arise. And then if Junhui was his dealer… “Did Junhui ever do drugs?”

 

Wonwoo shrugs. “On occasion. He wasn’t a junkie or anything, though.”

 

“Did you?”

 

“Never.”

 

As reluctant as Joshua was to take everything Wonwoo said at face value, he certainly seemed to be telling the truth then. “Did you ever confront them about it? Or try to get Soonyoung some help?”

 

“No,” Wonwoo says, a little too casually for Joshua’s liking. “It was his problem, not mine.”

 

Joshua raises an eyebrow suspiciously. “If Soonyoung was your friend, wouldn’t you be concerned about him?”

 

Suddenly, Wonwoo lunges forward and slams his hands on the table with such force that the weak metal legs shake beneath it. He captures Joshua’s gaze once again, silently commanding him to listen, and listen well. “Last time I checked,” he growls, “Your job was to ask me questions about Wen Junhui, not pass judgement on my past decisions.”

 

“A-are you telling me how to do my job?” Joshua scoffs. Except it’s hardly convincing when he’s cowering under Wonwoo, eyes averted and lip trembling. “Until you ha-have a police badge of your own, I’d appreciate it if you kept your opinion to yourself,” he squeaks.

 

The look Wonwoo gives him is equal parts patronizing and amused, and Joshua feels his pride slipping away as the man reaches out to brush his cheek with the back of his hand. Joshua stiffens at the contact, but doesn’t move away. Wonwoo’s hand is cold, contrasting starkly against the rising heat in Joshua’s face at the feeling of skin against skin, and the strong scent of Wonwoo’s cologne overtakes his senses. His eyes flutter closed as Wonwoo leans in close, lips just centimeters from the shell of his ear. “You’re so naive, Joshua,” he whispers, and the detective has to suppress a shiver as hot breath fans across his neck. It’s the first time he’s ever heard Wonwoo say his name, but there’s something so addicting about it that he wants to hear it again and again and again.

 

Joshua wishes so desperately that Wonwoo didn’t have this power over him, but the guilt that’s been weighing in his chest since he went to bed with a tall, dark, and handsome stranger he met that fateful night at a hotel bar keeps him firmly in place. He blames himself for his poor judgement, but at the same time, he owns up to the fact that he wasn’t even entirely drunk when he agreed to it. So he lets Wonwoo’s fingers trail down to his jaw, breathing growing shallow as they rest under his chin. He can feel the edge of the man’s diamond ring graze his skin, making him flinch just slightly.

 

“I have several documents and records pertaining to Wen Junhui, Kwon Soonyoung, and the jewel heist at my house,” he murmurs, tilting Joshua’s chin upwards to look him in the eye. “I will be available at 6 PM tomorrow evening to go over them with you.”

 

“That,” Joshua breathes, unable to form a coherent sentence, “That… Will be fine.”

 

A deep chuckle tumbles past Wonwoo’s lips as he pulls his hand away, causing Joshua’s chin to drop forward. He pushes his chair back, the sound of metal scraping across cheap tile floors uncomfortably similar to that of nails on a chalkboard, and stands up. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Detective,” he hums as he smoothes out the wrinkles in his black velvet blazer. “No need to treat next time like another interrogation. Let’s just see it as,” he gives Joshua a wry smile, “Friends sharing information. Remember, _I’m_ not the one that’s being accused here,” he adds, mirth fading from his face.

 

Joshua can only nod as Wonwoo silently slips out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol poor josh, he's struggling.
> 
> so i plan on posting the rest in mini chapters (around this length, or shorter) that encompass a whole scene, rather than grouping them together in longer chapters or just posting the whole darn thing at once. i'm really sorry if you don't like short chapters, but there's always that handy dandy 'read entire work' option! i really love to hear your feedback, so please come scream with me in the comments, on tumblr @thesoapclub, or into the void. totally up 2 u. a million and seventeen hugs for all y'all <3


	3. a mystery gaping inside

With shaky hands, Joshua looks down at the jewel heist file, double-checking that the address which Junhui had claimed belonged to Jeon Wonwoo matches the house in front of him. By force of habit, he turns down the volume on his Weezer CD that his friend back in Los Angeles had sent him so that he can somehow see the numbers more clearly- he’s not sure why it works, but it does. He looks up again at the house number, only to realize that it’s much less of a house than an estate, a sprawling mansion larger that Joshua could have ever dreamed possible. The exterior is outfitted in dark stone, with ornate white trim, stately columns, and a massive fountain marking the entrance. “Just how rich is he?” he mumbles to himself as he parks his car on the curb, too embarrassed to park his 1989 Honda Civic alongside the sleek Ferraris and Lamborghinis in the circular driveway. 

 

It’s a long walk to the front door, the path lined by several large topiaries and sharp hedges. Joshua curses internally and wishes he wasn’t so self conscious in the face of such wealth- he wouldn’t have to walk as far in the heat if he’d just parked closer to the house. 

 

By the time he reaches the door, he’s beginning to sweat, and he prays that someone lets him inside soon before it’s noticeable. He rings the doorbell, shifting his weight awkwardly from foot to foot as he waits for someone to answer. There’s a buzzing noise before someone answers over the speaker.

 

“This is the Jeon residence. How may I help you?” It’s not Wonwoo. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.

 

“Um,” Joshua stumbles, taken aback by the formality, “This is Detective Joshua Hong, here to speak with Mr. Jeon.”

 

“One moment, sir.”

 

Thankfully, Joshua doesn’t have to wait much longer that one moment, as the door is opened by a young man- no, boy- with dirty blonde hair and thick eyebrows. “Please come in, Detective Hong,” he says as he steps aside for Joshua to come in. “Mr. Jeon should be down soon. He apologizes for the wait.”

 

The words are tuned out as Joshua’s attention is captivated by the sheer grandeur of the house. An enormous crystal chandelier hangs over the entrance, casting a sparkling reflection on the immaculate white marble floors. The place is practically dripping with money, evident in every exquisite detail of the interior, from the blood red silk curtains with gilded trim to the intricate ironwork on the railing of the circular staircase.

 

That familiar voice snaps him out of his reverie. “You’re early.”

 

Joshua instantly turns to face the man, who was leaning against the entrance of the hallway to the left of the stairs, an unreadable expression on his face. “I am so sorry, sir,” he gasps as he checks his watch for the time. _ 5:45 PM. Shit.  _ The tips of his ears burn as he realizes that he's fifteen minutes early, and Joshua Hong is  _ never _ early. Either he's just barely on time or fashionably late, but he's never ever had a problem with being ahead of schedule. When he looks back up, Wonwoo’s staring at him, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. 

 

“Follow me,” he says as he turns around and begins to walk up the stairs. Joshua can’t help but notice the elegance in Wonwoo’s gait, further accentuated by his expertly-tailored black dress shirt and slim-fitting black slacks. Around his neck is a black leather choker with various chains hanging from the metal studs, adding an edge of danger to his otherwise professional look. 

 

Joshua’s mother had warned him about boys like that, with chains and tattoos and dark, mysterious eyes. But he couldn’t lie, he always found the bad boys to be the most alluring. 

 

The sound of Wonwoo’s spotless patent shoes clicking against the marble floor startles Joshua, and suddenly, he feels he isn't so sure of what he's gotten himself into. 

 

One one hand, he knows that in order to get information out of Wonwoo, he'll have to play by his rules, but on the other hand, he's not even sure if he'll be able to ask the proper questions if Wonwoo behaves anything like he did the day before. 

 

The man ahead of him stops at the top of the stairs and turns around, Joshua still lagging behind by a few steps. “Last door on the right.” He points a finger in the specified direction and doesn't bother to wait any longer for the detective to catch up before heading there. 

 

Joshua sighs and hopes that, should he have to explore elsewhere in the house, his host won’t expect him to find his way on his own. He can already picture himself getting lost trying to find the bathroom. 

 

The door is closed when Joshua reaches it, making him question whether he heard Wonwoo correctly.  _ Last door on the right, right? _ Hesitantly, he opens the door and peeks inside to see if Wonwoo’s in there. He isn’t quite sure what he would consider the room- perhaps, a sitting room would be his best guess. The walls are painted a dark burgundy, with finely-carved pieces of cherrywood furniture sitting atop plush Oriental rugs. The man in question is seated in a large leather wing chair as if it's a throne, flames from the large fireplace glinting in Wonwoo’s eyes. He's tapping his fingers against the armrest expectantly, as though he's had to wait several minutes for Joshua to catch up. Joshua is certain it couldn’t have been more than two. “Please,” he gestures with his hand towards a matching leather sofa in the center of the room, “Make yourself comfortable.”

 

“Thank you,” Joshua says as he takes a seat. He pulls out a small notepad and pen from his pocket and places them on his lap. “Well, shall we get started?” He’s grateful that there's more space between them than earlier; maybe now he’ll be able to think more clearly. 

 

Wonwoo leans back in the chair and nods his head affirmatively. “Now is as good of a time as any, I suppose.” He gives Joshua a catlike grin, eyes dancing with something dark that the detective just can’t put his finger on. “What do you want to know?” he asks, voice low. 

 

“Well,” Joshua starts. He knows he should ask questions explicitly related to the case, but curiosity gets the best of him. “What exactly do you do for a living?” It certainly has to be something important for someone as young as him to be able to afford such a lifestyle. 

 

“Three years ago, I inherited my father’s company, Jeontec Pharmaceuticals. I am the CEO and owner now,” he says, tilting his chin upward in a show of dominance. 

 

Joshua scribbles this down in his notepad. He does remember reading something about that in the brief description of Jeon Wonwoo in the jewel heist notes. “Your father, is he still alive?”

 

“No, he passed last year.” He searches Wonwoo’s eyes for some emotion, but comes back completely empty, sending a chill down his spine. Wonwoo continues, “He resigned and handed the position to me due to his declining health, so his death wasn't unexpected.”

 

“Were you prepared to take up the job at the time? I'm certain it must have been a big shock to accept so much responsibility so young.”

 

A casual wave of the hand gave Joshua his answer. “No, not at all. My father had been grooming me for the position as soon as I learned how to read,” he laughed. “I was very well prepared. In fact, the company is more successful than ever under my leadership,” he adds, pride lighting up his features. 

 

Joshua gives a small noise of affirmation as he jots that down under his previous note. Sure, everything looks great on paper, but something intangible about the way Wonwoo seemed so unfazed by his father’s death makes Joshua the slightest bit uncomfortable. “Were you and your father close?” he asks, setting his pen down on the paper, “You didn’t show-”

 

“You seem to be very interested in my personal life, detective,” Wonwoo cuts in, irritation underlying his cocky smile. He chuckles when he catches Joshua’s eyes drifting downward in embarrassment. 

 

Joshua is able to recover quickly, though, and straightens his posture to prove it. “I like to have some background on all of my informants. It helps me determine potential biases and areas in which inconsistencies may lie in different testimonies,” he says confidently.

 

“I like how you think,” Wonwoo hums. His lips curl into a sly smirk. “You almost sounded like a real detective there.”

 

_ Ouch, that hurt. _ Joshua frowns. Sure, he was fairly new to the job, but to have someone with no investigative experience whatsoever criticize his performance was insulting, to say the least. “I’ll have you know that I  _ am _ a detective, sir,” he snaps, whipping out his badge for proof. 

 

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows in mock surprise and gives Joshua his signature smile. “You weren’t too convincing yesterday. It seemed everything I said got you all flustered,” he said, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hands.

 

“Maybe  _ you _ should act more professional, Mr. Jeon,” Joshua retorts. “Stop trying to make things difficult for me.”

 

“Tsk,” Wonwoo pouts. “You shouldn’t let that get to you.” He stands up and glides over to a wooden chest in the corner of the room. From it, he pulls out a glass and crystal bottle filled with dark amber liquid. “You’re a detective,” he says as he fills his glass. “It’s your job to let nothing get in the way of your pursuit of the truth.” He screws the stopper back on the bottle and turns to Joshua, glass in hand. “Can I get you something to drink, Angel Face?” 

 

Joshua knows he should decline. This whole agreement is entirely too unprofessional already, and he wants to get home as soon as possible. But there’s something about the way the light from the fireplace is casting a soft glow on Wonwoo’s face, highlighting his defined, handsome features, that makes it difficult for Joshua to say no to him. “I’ll have some water, thank you.” 

 

“Of course.” Wonwoo opens the chest again and pulls out a bottled water from what Joshua assumes is a mini fridge. “In the bottle or in a glass?”

 

“The bottle is fine.” Joshua watches the man walk towards him, and every muscle in his body contracts as Wonwoo takes a seat on the other end of the sofa, instead of this leather throne. Wordlessly, Wonwoo hands Joshua the bottle, fixing him with a beguiling smile and clearly reveling in the shorter man’s discomfort. “Y-you said you had documents relevant to the case,” he stammers, “Can I take a look at them?”

 

Wonwoo raises his glass to his lips. “If you really want to,” he says nonchalantly before taking a sip. “But you know, it’s about time for dinner. Why don’t you join me?” He tilts his head in Joshua’s direction, awaiting an answer.

 

Joshua feels trapped. He most certainly doesn’t want to have dinner with Jeon Wonwoo. It would be absolutely inappropriate. But at the same time, he does. Very, very much. 

 

Heat starts to rise along the back of his neck as his eyes wander to Wonwoo’s torso, where he can see the slightest bit of black ink peeking out from where the top buttons of his shirt are open. It’s almost completely covered, but Joshua’s intrigued now. The other man doesn’t seem to be the type to have a tattoo at first glance, but he’s quickly learning that there’s no use trying to label Wonwoo. He’s an enigma all his own.

 

“Your memory is really that bad?” Wonwoo snickers, inching closer to Joshua. 

 

The detective freezes. This is far from the first time Wonwoo’s caught him staring, but he had hoped that the previous time would be the last. It also doesn’t help that Wonwoo’s leaning in, raising a hand to tuck a stray strand of silky hair behind Joshua’s ear. “I’m not going to tell you what it was,” Wonwoo whispers. “You’re a detective. Figure it out.” Before Joshua can blink, Wonwoo has already pulled away, laying on the sofa. A shocked gasp escapes Joshua’s lips as Wonwoo rests his legs on his lap. The informant’s deep laughter rings through the room at the sight of Joshua’s reaction, but he doesn’t move. “Or,” he winks, “You could always just take my shirt off and see for yourself.”

 

“Sir, dinner is ready.” Joshua turns his head to see the boy who had opened the door for him earlier. Both of their cheeks quickly turn pink, and in that moment Joshua wishes for nothing more than instant death. “I-I can come back later if-if you’d like, Mr. Jeon,” he blushes, looking back and forth between Wonwoo’s eyes and Wonwoo’s legs.

 

As per usual, Wonwoo remains completely unbothered by the fact that someone walked in on them in a… compromising position. “That’s alright, Hansol. I believe Detective Hong is joining us for dinner,” he arches an eyebrow at Joshua, “Right?”

 

The last shred of Joshua’s dignity saves him. “I’m s-sorry, sir. But I really can’t stay tonight.”

 

“Hm, what a shame,” Wonwoo mumbles, staring coldly at his guest.

 

Hansol bows his head. “Also, Mr. Jeon,” he adds, voice suddenly sounding strained, “Mingyu would like to speak with you.”

 

“Right now?” Wonwoo asks with a frown. He looks over to Joshua to give him an apologetic smile, but the gold badge on the detective’s belt catches his eye before he has the chance. He tenses, knowing that he can’t discuss anything with Mingyu as long as Joshua is there. The man may not look particularly threatening, but at the end of the day, he’s still a cop.

 

“He did say it was urgent, but if it’s inconvenient for you, I can-”

 

Wonwoo holds up a hand to silence him. “Tell Mingyu I’m busy.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Hansol nods. “Will you still be coming down for dinner?”

 

“Give me a few minutes.”

 

The blonde boy steps back and reaches for the door handle, eyeing Joshua suspiciously. “Yes, sir. Whenever is convenient for you,” he says before closing the door behind him.

 

“My apologies,” Wonwoo sighs. “But I meant what I said,” he laughs, recovering his slick persona. 

 

Joshua ducks his head to hide the fact that he’s blushing profusely, but it proves futile as Wonwoo moves in close once more. His legs are still crossed on top of Joshua’s lap, and Joshua tries his best to ignore the fact that he doesn’t really mind. “I know what you want to know,” Wonwoo murmurs, fingers tugging at Joshua’s shirt collar.

 

“What... are you talking about?” Joshua breathes, unable to look Wonwoo in the eye. Truthfully, there are lots of things he wants to know, preferably about Wen Junhui; he’s not sure what Wonwoo could be referring to.

 

“You want to know why,” he trails his fingers up to play with the soft hairs at the nape of Joshua’s neck, “Why I slept with you that night. Why I left the morning after.” Wonwoo’s voice drops an octave, and he presses his lips just below Joshua’s ear. “Why I’m making this  _ so damn difficult  _ for you,” he chuckles.

 

A shudder wracks through Joshua’s body at the sensation of Wonwoo’s lips on his skin. It’s not a bad feeling at all, he has to admit, but it’s so wrong on so many levels. He’s here to solve a case and help track down one of the world’s most dangerous criminals, not to get steamy with a man who didn’t even have the decency to give him directions on how to get home from the hotel suite he woke up alone in. “W-why?”

 

_ ‘You looked easy, and I was bored,’ _ Wonwoo tells himself. “I really enjoyed getting to know you that night,” he smiles, trying his best to seem genuine. “You were sweet, and funny,” he twirls a lock of Joshua’s hair between his fingers, “Not to mention incredibly handsome.” It’s not a complete lie- he truly did find Joshua stunning. Maybe, he wonders, it would have been easier if Joshua was still the quiet, meek boy he had seduced at the hotel bar, but now that the kitten had shown he was capable of bearing his claws, he wasn’t about to let that throw him off. It only meant that he would have to work even harder to win over Joshua and get the rest of the police department off of his trail.

 

“As for why I left you, I had work. I’m sorry,” he shrugs. “I promise I won’t do it next time, though,” he says with a smirk. “And the reason I’m making this hard for you is because I know you can figure this case out by yourself. All the pieces are there.” His fingers comb through Joshua’s hair. “I also want to figure  _ you _ out.”

 

Joshua opens his mouth to reply, but closes it once he realizes that, well, there’s nothing to say. The informant had just thrown him so many subtle hints, but he was far too distracted by Wonwoo’s hands in his hair, and Wonwoo’s face so close to his, and Wonwoo’s… everything, that he can’t even process what the other man said. “The-the documents,” is the only thing Joshua can muster, his brain overloading to the point where he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to solve this case if it involves Jeon Wonwoo. 

 

The taller man just laughs and stands up, extending a hand with which to help Joshua to his feet. “You’re really something, Detective Hong,” Wonwoo muses. “It’s getting late, and if you won’t be staying for dinner, then I’m afraid I have to cut our meeting short. If tomorrow at the same time works for you, I can go over the documents with you then.”

 

Somewhere in the back of his head, Joshua can hear Seungcheol’s voice,  _ “Jeon Wonwoo is tricky. He’ll try to get in your head and mess you up. You’ve got to stay strong and on task.” _ It’s drowned out, though, by his own voice, wondering,  _ “What did he mean by ‘next time’? Why does he think I can solve this case on my own? Why haven’t I gotten any information on Junhui or Soonyoung yet? Would anyone notice if I did stay? It’s a Friday night…  _ “Tomorrow is Saturday,” Joshua says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 

“Well, it doesn’t have to be an official meeting.” Wonwoo picks up his glass of scotch from the table and takes a long sip. “I’ll just give you the stuff you need, and you can be on your way.”

 

Joshua rolls his eyes and taps his foot on the ground absentmindedly. “Why do I get the feeling it’s not going to be so simple? That’s what you told me last time, and I still know absolutely nothing.”

 

“Like I said,” Wonwoo grins, walking towards the door, “It’s your job to go out and find the truth. If some harmless flirting is enough to render you speechless,” he says, a hand on the doorknob, “Then maybe you want to reconsider whether you’re the right man for this case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> joshua drives a 1989 honda civic and listens to Weezer and uses the phrase "surfing the net". y'all can fight me on that.
> 
> as always, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. i appreciate it so much <3.
> 
> come scream with me on tumblr dot com @thesoapclub.
> 
> lotsandlotsandlots of love!!!!  
> hedgehogwatch


	4. but you know, the plans i'm making

 

Wonwoo runs his hand down the edge of the windowpane as he watches Joshua’s figure make its way down his driveway. There’s a strange, but ultimately unpleasant feeling in the back of his head that he hasn’t been able to shake since he got that call asking for him to be informant on the Kwon Soonyoung case. 

 

“Sir,” a quiet voice behind him says. Wonwoo turns his head just enough so that he can see who it is. 

 

A pair of gentle brown eyes stare back at him, full of worry. “What is it, Mingyu?” Wonwoo groans, leaning his back against the wall. Mingyu is never one to bother him over trivial matters, which is the only reason he doesn’t immediately send him away.

 

His assistant wrings his hands nervously and takes a miniscule step back. Wonwoo doesn’t blame him; he would do the same thing if he had to confront himself. “S-sir, I got a call from Wu Yifan, and,” he swallows, appearing to be on the verge of tears, “And the shipment is going to be d-delayed by two days.” Mingyu’s voice trails off at the end of the last sentence into an inaudible whisper.

 

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo laughs darkly, eyes narrowing, “What was that?” He knows the answer, but he wants to give himself a few more seconds to live in denial.

 

“Um-um, well, I got a call from-”

 

“No,” Wonwoo sneers. “That last part, what was that?”

 

Mingyu closes his eyes, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. “T-The cocaine shipment is-isn’t c-coming in for another t-two days,” he gasps between sobs. “I did everything I c-could, but Yifan said that with-with them busy trying to recruit Yixing f-from the EXO cartel, production i-is running behind.” He covers his face with his hands, “I t-tried to negotiate, b-but-”

 

“Clearly, it wasn’t enough.” Wonwoo stands up straight and points at the sofa that Joshua had been sitting in earlier, instructing him to sit down, as he takes his seat in the leather wing chair. “Mingyu, Mingyu, Mingyu,” he sighs, threading his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “If you’d done your  _ very best _ ,” he says in that saccharine tone that makes Mingyu wish he was being screamed at, “The shipment would already be at my fucking doorstep.”

 

“I am so sorry, Mr. Je-”

 

“What did I tell you about taking matters like this into your own hands, Mingyu?” Wonwoo asks, folding his hands together and placing them under his chin. 

 

The younger man hangs his head in shame and sinks into the sofa, trembling lightly. “T-that I shouldn’t do it…”

 

“Then why did you?!” Wonwoo screams, charging forward at Mingyu. Furiously, he grabs his assistant’s shirt collar and crumples it into his fist. “Jeonghan’s been giving me so much shit about this order! What am I supposed to do, Mingyu? Tell him that he’ll have to wait?!”

 

Mingyu’s breathing is ragged, and his heart is threatening to beat out of his chest. He knows what happens when Wonwoo gets in this kind of mood, and he knows that it never ends well. “Please, Mr. Jeon, I’ll do whatever-”

 

“I don’t trust you to handle things like this anymore,” Wonwoo scoffs, grip still tight on Mingyu’s shirt. “You know, I didn’t have to save you from that gang fight. I could have let you die there,” he whispers as he takes Mingyu’s chin in his hands. “And this is how you repay me? By making such fucking stupid mistakes?!” 

 

Mingyu says a silent prayer as he sees Wonwoo’s arm wind up, poised to make nothing less that a perfect hit. It does, and it does so with so much force that Mingyu can barely feel the man’s fist connect with his jaw. His entire face is so numb that he has to clench his own fist just to make sure he’s still alive. “I’m… sorry, sir,” he cries, the familiar metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. 

 

There’s a long moment of silence, the two men just staring at each other, chests heaving from labored breaths. The air around them is thick with suspense, and neither dares to make a move. Wonwoo watches the blood trickle down Mingyu’s chin from his split lip with a satisfied expression. “I could kill you right here, you know,” he says matter-of-factly, walking over to pick up a white cloth from the wooden chest. He pulls out a bottle of water, wets the cloth, and returns to Mingyu. Eyes trained on the younger man, he puts the cloth to Mingyu’s lip to stop the bleeding, causing him to wince at the pain. “This is your last warning.” He swipes the cloth sharply across the bloodied lip, and Mingyu can’t hold back the strangled cry that escapes him. “One more little slip-up, and you’re back on the streets, kid.”

 

That shocks Mingyu more that the punch did. “I-I… can’t go back,” he pleads, memories of his teenage years flashing through his mind. He doesn’t remember how he got caught up in the world of gangs, and crime syndicates, and drug cartels- he’s done his best to block out the most traumatic bits- but he can clearly recall the night his gang had crossed paths with Jeon Wonwoo. Mingyu had heard the name spoken in faint whispers and hushed conversations, always with a tone of reverence, like the man was some sort of untouchable deity.  _ “They call him ‘The Diamond’,” _ one of his gang mates had told him,  _ “‘Cause he’s unbreakable. And expensive… Guys like us can’t afford to deal with him.” _

 

Apparently, that was just what happened that night. Some idiot made a deal with Wonwoo and just couldn’t pay. Cue a whole troop of guys with weapons that Mingyu had thought only spies in the movies possessed, led by an exceedingly handsome man in a crisp black suit, ‘The Diamond’ himself. After that, Mingyu doesn’t remember much, save for blood and gunshots. His memory picks back up with him lying in the most luxurious bed he’d ever seen in his life, all his wounds bandaged.

 

_ “It was my plan to wipe out your whole little gang, but I couldn’t pass up on a chance to steal such a talented marksman for myself. Too bad you’re not as perceptive when it comes to things flying your way _ ,” Jeon Wonwoo had told him that day, nodding to his bandaged shoulder. 

 

Since then, he had become Wonwoo’s assistant… of sorts, a hitman-slash-butler-slash-bodyguard-slash-secretary, tasked with the dirty work that Wonwoo couldn’t be bothered with. Wonwoo handled all of the dealings, negotiations, and shipments, all while owning a multimillion-dollar pharmaceutical company, and Mingyu always wondered what exactly it took to get in such an auspicious position. Luck, ambition, and good looks, he supposes.

 

Of course, it was a kind of ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ situation. Sure, he was freed from gang life, but working under a drug lord wasn’t exactly a perfect alternative either. Wonwoo was terribly nice to look at, but at the same time, he was more cold-blooded than any gang leader Mingyu had ever come across. Wonwoo kept his drug business on a tight leash, ensuring that everyone knew their place- beneath him, and should an underling try to overstep their boundaries, they’d magically disappear the next day, as if they never existed in the first place. Thankfully, Mingyu’s subsequent fear of Wonwoo and guilt over the fact that the man saved his life has kept him subordinate, meaning that he deals with the very minimum of his boss’ wrath. Just a few punches and hits, here and there, when Wonwoo’s in a bad mood. Could be worse, he tells himself.

 

That’s why he can’t afford to risk losing his job. Whether he likes it or not, Wonwoo is all he has. And if the man wanted to, he could expose Mingyu’s kill list. That is, if Wonwoo didn’t kill Mingyu first… That’s also why he can’t let the police figure out who really killed Soonyoung. If Wonwoo’s exposed, then Mingyu and his kill list will be, too. He was the one to pull the trigger, after all.

 

He also can’t deny that the man’s good in bed. 

 

“Then don’t give me reason to fire you.” Wonwoo lets out a deep breath and sits down next to Mingyu, cleaning up his bloody face once more, this time slightly gentler.

 

“Sir,” Mingyu whispers, swallowing thickly. “I’m… I’m afraid that detective is going to catch on to us. I can’t,” he starts to cry again, “I can’t lose this job- I mean,  _ you _ .” He silently praises his swift recovery. Maybe that extra bit of affection would stroke Wonwoo’s ego enough to let him off the hook with all of his limbs intact. 

 

Wonwoo’s brows furrow in confusion, but he doesn’t stop cleaning Mingyu’s face, nor does he even bother to look the younger man in the eye. “It’s none of your concern. I have a plan.”

 

“What is it?” Mingyu blurts out, his mouth reacting before his brain can stop him. 

 

“I’m toying with Detective Hong in order to buy myself some time. I tried my best to just outright seduce him, but he’s hell-bent on getting some evidence. So my only other option is to fabricate some damning evidence that’ll incriminate Junhui on the spot. But in order to do that, I need time.” A small smile graces his lips. “The fact that he and I slept together before gives me the upper hand, though. Something to pull when he’s getting too curious.”

 

Mingyu nods, still unconvinced. “I worry about you sometimes, boss.”  _ I’m worried about me.  _ His eyes flicker to where Wonwoo’s holding the cloth against his jaw. “I’m scared that one day, you’ll take on more than you can handle.”

 

“I’m not the one you should worry about, babe,” Wonwoo grins. But Mingyu can see that there are still traces of anxiety lining his face, cracks in his armor. He’s been told several times he’s not good at anything, but deep down Mingyu knows that he has a knack for reading people. And he knows that, even if he won’t admit it, Wonwoo’s scared, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things get dark real quick. josh is in big time trouble.
> 
> come get hyped about all these comebacks with me on tumblr @thesoapclub
> 
> an endless amount of love,   
> hedgehogwatch


	5. dance into the fire

“Yo, Jihoon, I got doughnuts,” Seokmin sing-songs as he bursts into his coworker’s office.

 

The hairs on the back of Jihoon’s neck stand up on end. He doesn’t have a problem with doughnuts; he rather likes to start the day with a good sugar rush. The man bringing the doughnuts, on the other hand… “Just drop ‘em right there on the table and I’ll get up to eat them when I feel like it.”

 

“No way, bro.” The detective clutches the box of pastries to his chest and shakes his head. “You gotta get out of that office! Name, like, one time you’ve actually interacted with someone here other than Minghao and the Chief.”

 

Jihoon groans, jabbing his fingers on the keyboard with much more force than necessary. There was a reason he only associated with Minghao and Seungcheol- they seemed to be the only tolerable people in the entire police department. Even calling Minghao tolerable might have been a stretch for Jihoon. “How about right now? When I’m telling you to get the fuck out of my office?”

 

“Language!” Seokmin shouts. He’s holding the box of doughnuts away from the shorter man, as if shielding them from his vulgarities. “Look, if you want doughnuts, you’re gonna have to get out of your cave and have some normal, healthy human interaction.”

 

“I think I’d rather starve.” The Kwon Soonyoung case had gotten everyone in the office pissy as of late, but no one’s frustration even compared to Jihoon’s. He had been been thrown a packet with autopsy reports, media articles, forensic findings, and witness statements and was pretty much told to figure it out. Now, he feels like more of a conspiracy theorist than a detective; it certainly seems like Junhui killed the man, but every piece of evidence has been purely circumstantial. Sure, Junhui was the most logical suspect, but something in the back of Jihoon’s mind doesn’t sit too well with the way everyone was assuming, rather than investigating. 

 

If he was leading the case, he would have gone with a much less biased approach, examining all aspects of Soonyoung’s life before jumping to conclusions so early on. But he isn’t, so all he can really do is cooperate.

 

_ And all Joshua Hong has to do is chat with that friend of Junhui’s. Guess a pretty face gets you preferential treatment around here… _

 

Seokmin shrugs. “Your loss,” he says as he closes the door behind him. 

 

Jihoon breathes deeply, puts his bulky headphones on, and presses the play button on his Walkman MiniDisc, hoping the sweet sounds of Nirvana will be enough to keep him from adding another murder to the list. He logs in to his service provider and dials up the Internet, tapping his fingers angrily against the side of the monitor as it loads. 

 

“If no one else is going to be helpful on this case, then shit, I will. As soon as the damn thing connects,” he mumbles under his breath. Once it loads, he opens Netscape Navigator and enters ‘Kwon Soonyoung’ into the search bar, hoping to continue his search from yesterday regarding Soonyoung’s personal life prior to his death. He’s met with some online news articles about his recent death, but it’s the personal blog pages that interest Jihoon. It feels slightly like an invasion of privacy, but at this point, he just needs to get information and put this case to rest. 

 

“How much you wanna bet Joshua and Wonwoo are fucking?” Minghao shouts as he barges inside Jihoon’s office. “The guy got absolutely nothing from him yesterday, but for some reason, he just left early to question him some more. That can only spell one thing, and it starts with a fuck- and ends with an -ing.”

 

On a normal day, Jihoon probably would have thrown his stapler at the intruder. But the one thing he loved more than solitary time was time spent complaining about other people. And he had a long list of complaints about Joshua Hong. “I bet my entire life savings,” he scoffs, taking off his headphones. Joshua had always been friendly, that wasn’t the issue. The issue was that Joshua was  _ overly _ friendly, always showing up to work with a cheerful smile, asking how everyone’s day was, laughing at Seungcheol’s horrendous dad jokes, and just being bubbly. Jihoon hates bubbly people. But everyone else seems to love Joshua Hong to death, despite the fact that he doesn’t file his papers in the right folders, doesn’t refill the printer paper when it runs out, and doesn’t seem to be of any use to the police department whatsoever. 

 

“I was the one that had to monitor Josh’s interrogation of Wonwoo, and let me tell you, it was something straight out of an erotic novel.” Minghao makes a face of disgust as he leans over Jihoon’s desk, dangerously close to knocking over his framed photo of Dog, his beloved cat. “As soon as Joshua laid eyes on him, he started getting all flustered. And throughout the whole thing, Wonwoo kept making suggestive comments, and at one point he, I shit you not, leaned over and touched Joshua’s face.” The Chinese man picks up a folder from Jihoon’s desk and slams it down on the surface for emphasis. “And don’t even get me started with the fact that Joshua removed Wonwoo’s handcuffs, just ‘cause he asked him to.”

 

Jihoon’s eyes widen, and he swivels his chair around to face Minghao. “He did what now?” he gasps.

 

“You heard me.” Minghao smacks his lips and shakes his head. “So we’re over here busting our asses trying to crack this case, and Josh is probably over there screaming, ‘Harder, Wonwoo!’” He makes sure to imitate Joshua’s soft voice, earning him the first real laugh from Jihoon he’s ever heard.

 

“A mental image I did not need,” Jihoon snorts, unable to hide his amusement. “But scarily accurate.” He lowers his head to rest on his desk, rolling a pen between his fingers. “Man, I hate that guy. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all an act, and one of these days, he’s gonna crack or something. No one is that… likeable.”

 

Minghao smirks playfully and swats Jihoon’s arm. “Just because you’re an asshole behind all that cuteness-”

 

“I’m not cute.”

 

“As if,” Minghao laughs. “But just because you lack a soul doesn’t mean that everyone else does. Maybe Josh really is as great as everyone makes him out to be, and we’re just too cynical to realize that.”

 

Jihoon purses his lips and stares the other detective down. “Remember when your Super Mario soda magically disappeared from the fridge yesterday?” He can see the look of utter horror spread across Minghao’s face. “Wanna guess who I saw drinking it?”

 

“Joshua Hong can fucking die,” Minghao breathes.

 

“You know,” Jihoon sits back up and raises his eyebrows, something devious clearly running through his mind, “As nice as Seungcheol is, if Joshua doesn’t come back with some real evidence after round two, don’t you think he’ll get a little suspicious?”

 

Minghao’s eyes wander around in thought, as though he’s trying to interpret what Jihoon could be implying. Either way, he knows it’s something good, judging by the smile on the shorter man’s lips. “What are you getting at?” Minghao whispers, leaning in closer to Jihoon.

 

“How likely do you think it’ll be that Joshua will show up empty-handed on Monday, and will probably be wearing a turtleneck?” Jihoon asks.

 

“Very likely.”

 

Jihoon points his pen at Minghao’s nose, still grinning widely. “Then I think it’s safe to say we won’t have to worry about Joshua Hong much longer, don’t you? The guy’s nothing more than a waste of resources, and more importantly, coffee, at this point.” He taps Minghao’s forehead, ignoring the small whine of protest from the other. “I’d rather spend an entire day with Seokmin than him, which is really saying something. Hell, I’d rather listen to the Backstreet Boys than have to interact with him.”

 

“So you really think the Chief’s gonna fire him?” Minghao asks, biting his lip. 

 

The man at the desk shrugs. “I’m usually right about these things.”   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *disclaimer*  
> I love the backstreet boys with all my heart. jihoon's opinion does not reflect my own.
> 
> okay, so this chapter is a more of a side chapter, but trust me- it's important! i promise this was not just an excuse to serve up a nice glass of 90s nostalgia. not sure where the idea to have this set in 1996 came from, but i think the hip hop unit dazed photoshoot had something to do with it. actually, it had a lot to do with it.
> 
> i 100% wrote this while watching internet instructional videos from 1996.  
> i regret nothing.
> 
> more to come soon, stay tuned kids. love and more love, hedgehogwatch


	6. that fatal kiss is all we need

When Joshua arrives at Wonwoo’s doorstep that evening, it’s not Hansol that greets him, but a much taller man, with tanned skin and angular features. The man looks down at him in near disgust as he opens the door, eyes boring holes into the back of Joshua’s head. “I take it you’re that detective, huh?” he grunts, closing the door behind him.

 

“Yeah, I’m-”

 

“Wait here for Mr. Jeon,” he snaps, frown still firmly in place.

 

Joshua doesn’t expect someone like Wonwoo to have the very warmest of staff, but at least Hansol was courteous and didn’t seem to outright despise him. Still, there’s something particularly strange about the way the man had addressed him as “that detective”. Joshua’s pretty sure he’s never seen this guy before; the only way the man could have known about him would either be if Wonwoo told him, or if he was watching. Neither option sits too pleasantly with him. “Um,” Joshua clears his throat, “What’s your name?”

 

“Why, are you interrogating me now?” the man scoffs.

 

‘ _ What is it with the people in this house?’ _ Joshua wonders. “Look, I’m just doing my job. Can you please tell me your name?” He does his best to make his voice seem as gentle as possible, but with just enough frustration to show that he doesn’t have time for games.

 

“Kim Mingyu.” Said man pouts like a kicked puppy, seemingly upset that he gave in to the detective's request. 

 

Joshua pulls out his trusty notebook and jots that down, just in case. “And what is your job here, Mr. Kim?”

 

“It’s just Mingyu.” He looks almost scandalized that Joshua would have the audacity to refer to him by such a formal title, raising quite a few questions in Joshua’s head. “Mr. Jeon is the only one that you should address as such.”

 

For some reason, that makes Joshua just the slightest bit uneasy. Come to think of it, he’s never heard anyone address Wonwoo by his first name, not even himself. He’s always just called him “Mr. Jeon” or “sir”, without ever questioning it. Except, he remembers, blushing slightly at the realization, that Wonwoo is younger than him. 

 

Thankfully, Mingyu’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. “I am Mr. Jeon’s assistant.”

 

“Assistant,” Joshua repeats as he writes it down. “What does your job entail?”

 

Mingyu’s jaw tightens at the question. He’s memorized what he’s supposed to say, but now, should he say the slightest thing wrong, both he and Wonwoo are doomed. “I… I handle Mr. Jeon’s personal affairs, and I oversee that everything at the house is in order while Mr. Jeon is at work.” His fingers fumble with the hem of his shirt nervously, and he turns his gaze to the floor.

 

“What is Wonwoo like as a boss?” Joshua asks, making a point to call him ‘Wonwoo’, if only to see Mingyu’s reaction.

 

The timid, fragile man standing in front of him is a far cry from the gruff person that greeted him at the door, and Joshua wonders what could have triggered that change. “S-Sir, it’s Mr. Jeon.” 

 

_ He really is serious about the titles… _

 

“Ah, Mr. Jeon is-is a very generous boss. He pays me well.” Mingyu seems satisfied with his answer, a forced smile spreading across his face.

 

This is all getting a little too suspicious for Joshua. Mingyu is clearly deflecting at the mention of Wonwoo, and even though Joshua knows that Wonwoo’s not a criminal, he can’t help but feel like something strange is going on here. “Yes, but as a person, how is he? Is he kind to you?”

 

“He treats me fairly,” is all Mingyu can say. A part of him just wants to get everything off his chest, to have someone to confide in about Wonwoo’s true character. Detective or not, Mingyu thinks Joshua looks like an understanding, caring person. He’s seen so few people like that in his line of work that it physically pains him to hold back his secrets. 

 

This seems all too suspicious to Joshua. ‘Fairly’ doesn’t exactly equate with ‘nicely’, rather, it sounds exactly like what someone who was being forced to speak well about someone cruel would say. “If he treats you fairly,” Joshua narrows his eyes in confusion, “Then why won’t he let you call him by his name? You two seem to be around the same age.”

 

“That would be unprofessional, sir,” Mingyu replies, sounding more like a taped recording than an actual person. “Mr. Jeon sets clear boundaries in order to ensure efficiency and respect in the household, as well as in his office.”

 

Joshua has had enough. This kid is clearly hiding something, and whatever it is, Joshua’s certain it’s not pretty. He clenches his fists, hoping,  _ praying _ , to get a straight answer out of Mingyu for once. In a quiet voice, he whispers, “Mingyu, if there’s something going on, please tell me. No matter what it is, I’m here-”

 

“Ah, Detective Hong. You’re on time today.” Joshua jumps at the sound of Wonwoo’s voice, fearful that he might have overheard their conversation. He flips around to see Wonwoo draped over the top of the stair railing, looking down at him with an amused expression. Suddenly, those angry feelings about Wonwoo he had been harboring melt away as their eyes lock. Even from several feet away, Joshua can feel the heat of Wonwoo’s stare, and consequently, the heat burning in his own cheeks. He’s wearing a black button-down, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and black pants that fit too tightly to not be distracting. That, combined with the way his hair is slicked back causes the detective’s breath to catch in his throat.

 

“G-good evening, Mr. Jeon,” Joshua bows politely, hoping the other can’t pick up on his hopeless blush. 

 

Wonwoo returns him with a smirk, then stands up straight. “Why don’t we change things up today?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in a way that Joshua can’t help but find suggestive. “Mingyu, show Detective Hong to the library while I gather the documents.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Mingyu nods. He turns to Joshua and extends a hand to the long hallway to the right of the stairs. “This way.”

 

Joshua follows closely behind Mingyu, still in awe of the beauty of Wonwoo’s house. Lining the corridor are beautiful pieces of antique art, each hung by an even more beautiful frame. Crystal sconces light the way, and Joshua feels as though he’s been transported to some historical novel or something. 

 

When Mingyu turns back to check that Joshua’s behind him, he has this look in his eyes that Joshua instantly interprets as “Don’t you dare tell Wonwoo we spoke.” Joshua responds by holding a finger to his lips, and he’s almost happy to see some of the tension in the taller man’s shoulders dissipate. 

 

The library is even more magical than Joshua imagined, walls lined from floor to ceiling with books of all shapes and sizes and colors.The shelves are all carved from dark mahogany, with tiny, intricate details carved into them. Above, several Victorian-era lamps bathe the room in a warm light, reflected by the gilded accents on the ceiling. “It’s… Wow,” Joshua gasps.

 

“Mr. Jeon doesn’t normally bring guests here. Consider yourself lucky,” Mingyu tells Joshua, a hint of sadness in his voice. 

 

Before Joshua can internalize what Mingyu just said, Wonwoo steps in, as if on cue. “You’re excused, Mingyu,” he says sharply. There’s a quiet ‘Yes, sir’ from the other before he scurries out, closing the door softly behind him. “Now,” Wonwoo smiles at Joshua, “I have your documents.”

 

He sits down in a small reading chair in the center of the room and gestures for Joshua to sit in the one adjacent to it, holding several folders and a small leather bag. “Thank you for getting these for me,” Joshua says as he sits down. 

 

“It was no problem.” Wonwoo sets the items on the table and picks up a medium-sized manila folder from the top of the stack. “Here,” he says, handing them to Joshua. Joshua opens the folder and pulls out a glossy photograph of three boys sitting together in front of a school building. They’re all dressed in the same uniform- a navy blazer with a red and gold school crest, a burgundy sweater vest, and navy slacks. Joshua can quickly identify the boy on left as Wen Junhui, which means the boy sitting in the middle has to be…

 

“Is… Is that you?” Joshua asks Wonwoo, stifling a laugh. The boy in the picture looks to be about seventeen years old, with shaggy black fringe hanging over his eyes. His expression is unnervingly cold, sharp brown eyes piercing the camera. Contrasted with Junhui and the other boy’s happy smiles, Wonwoo looks like he’s counting down the seconds until the sweet release of death. 

 

Wonwoo doesn’t seem to find it funny, though. “I think you should be looking at Junhui and Soonyoung, not me. They’re the ones you need evidence on, right?” he asks.

 

“Y-yes, of course,” Joshua mumbles as he looks back down to study the picture again. According to Wonwoo, the boy on the right is Kwon Soonyoung. He was really, very cute, in Joshua’s opinion, all bright eyes and blinding smiles. But a chill runs down the detective’s spine as he realizes that not only is Soonyoung dead, but his friend, photographed right there with him, murdered him in cold blood. “So you three were close,” Joshua says, lips drawn together in concern.

 

“Yes. That’s why I pulled out this picture, in case you had any doubts about my relevancy in this case.” He points to Junhui’s right wrist in the photo, on which lies a thin black band. “Junhui always wore that bracelet. He said that it reminded him of his home, or something.” Joshua nods and copies that down in his notebook. “You remember that I told you Junhui visited me the night he went to steal the jewels? Well, he left it at my house that night, along with some other damning pieces of evidence.” Wonwoo picks up the leather bag and rummages through it for a few moments before pulling out the same bracelet that was in the photo.

 

Joshua takes it in his hands and inspects it. It’s a fairly ordinary bracelet, just a piece of black leather with braided ties, but upon further inspection, he can see that there’s something inscribed on the back. “J.W.W.” Joshua says aloud, looking at Wonwoo quizzically.

 

“What…” Wonwoo gasps, eyes widening. “L-let me see that,” he says, practically tearing the bracelet out of Joshua’s hand. He’d never bothered to look at the back of the bracelet… A cold sweat captures his whole body as he realizes that those initials are his.  _ I never should have agreed to this. I should have told Seungcheol no.  _ His heart is beating so rapidly he’s scared he’ll pass out.  _ Think fast, Wonwoo. _ Quickly, he puts on a mask of hurt, gazing forlornly at the leather band. “I didn’t know he kept it after all these years.”

 

“Were you two,” Joshua bites his lip, surprised to see Wonwoo actually displaying some genuine emotions, “A thing?” 

 

Slowly, Wonwoo nods his head, running his thumb over the black leather. “Back then, we were.” He lets out the breath he’s been holding and traces little circles on the armrest of the chair with his index finger. “It just,” he does his best to make his voice sound as broken and vulnerable as possible, “Hurt me so badly to hear what kind of person he’d become. It hurt even more once I realized what he did after he came to my house that night. I wish I could have been there to help him before he,” Wonwoo chokes, “Before he went and ruined his life.” 

 

Joshua isn’t sure what to make of this. It’s definitely strange to see Jeon Wonwoo struggling to express his feelings, since every other time, the man had formed each response with laser precision, as though he’d calculated the answer before Joshua even asked it. Now, the man in front of him is tense, and in his eyes lies something Joshua can only pinpoint as betrayal. On the other hand, he does enjoy seeing this side of Wonwoo, a facet that’s not so perfectly-cut. The fleeting notion that, perhaps, Wonwoo might be more than this imposing, mysterious force crosses Joshua’s mind, giving him the faintest glimmer of hope.  _ Hope of what…? _ “I’m sorry to hear that, Wonwoo.”

 

A disquieting stillness hangs in the air as Joshua realizes his mistake. All of those whimsical thoughts about Wonwoo having feelings and stuff are quickly drowned by the silence, and suddenly Joshua is scared again. If Mingyu reacted so strongly when someone else called the man “Wonwoo”, he doesn’t even want to know what happens when someone calls him that to his face. 

 

“Did you,” Wonwoo draws his lips together, eyes narrowed and staring pointedly at Joshua, “Did you just call me Wonwoo?”

 

“I’m really, really sorry, sir. I just got-”

 

A marauding smile spreads across Wonwoo’s face as he stands up from his chair. Joshua cowers beneath the man’s shadow, cast by the antique lights above, and he’s certain beyond a doubt that he’s either about to be killed or kissed. His life flashes before his eyes as Wonwoo grabs his shoulders, forcing him to stand, and pushes him to the corner of the room. Joshua’s back is pinned against the wall with significant force, and almost immediately, Wonwoo’s lips are on his. 

The force of Wonwoo’s kiss is almost bruising, but Joshua finds himself wanting more as Wonwoo begins to nip and tug at his lower lip. Joshua responds with soft whimpers, unable to even recognize this this is  _ wrong, wrong, wrong _ . “Few people have the nerve to call me that, you know?” Wonwoo chuckles before capturing Joshua’s mouth once more. His tongue slips past Joshua’s lips easily; the detective hasn’t put up any resistance whatsoever, despite his earlier insistence that he was strictly here for business. Joshua’s fingers tangle in Wonwoo’s jet black hair, pulling sharply at it when Wonwoo licks inside his mouth. Wonwoo’s hands grip the shorter man’s hips so harshly that Joshua can feel the bruises forming under his skin, but he’s so fixated on the feeling of Wonwoo’s powerful shoulder blades under his hands that he disregards the pain. He’s mesmerized by the tiny movements of the younger’s muscles, flexing and contracting with every minute shift in his body. 

 

Slowly, Wonwoo’s lips trail down Joshua’s neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses and small bites along the way, and he smirks at the gasps and whines that leave the other’s lips. Joshua finds himself drowning in lust with every sensation of Wonwoo’s lips against his skin. Adrenaline courses through his veins as he feels Wonwoo’s teeth pierce his skin, a rush unlike any he’s ever felt before. Wonwoo’s mouth wanders to Josuha’s collarbones, grazing his lips along the strong lines until he reaches his shoulders. He tugs at the collar of Joshua’s shirt to reveal honeyed shoulders, muscular, yet with a graceful slope that Wonwoo just can’t resist. 

 

Wonwoo is everything Joshua’s been told to be afraid of: mysterious, suspicious, seductive. Yet, he’s everything that Joshua wants. It’s an unhealthy craving, he knows, but the most dangerous things in life are almost always the most tempting, and Joshua’s just too weak to deprive himself of this. He shivers as Wonwoo brushes his lips against his bare shoulder and traces a searing line across his skin. By this point, Joshua feels like he’s on fire, consumed by a burning desire for  _ more _ . “Wonwoo,” he breathes, steadying his hands against the other’s chest. 

 

It takes a few seconds for him to realize what he’s just done, but he fears the worst again as Wonwoo pulls away. Joshua hates the sudden lack of warmth and curses his mouth for betraying him. Uncertainly, he meets Wonwoo’s eyes, praying he’ll find some mercy in them. Wonwoo just stares back at him, but Joshua finds he’s a lot less threatening with reddened lips, glassy eyes, and flushed cheeks. The taller man runs his tongue across his upper lip, looking as though he’s about to ravage the detective. 

 

Instantly, he locks lips with Joshua again. This time, it’s fierce, hot, and heavy, teeth gnashing and hands finding purchase on whatever they can. Joshua grabs at Wonwoo’s shirt, pulling the taller man closer to him and eliminating any space between the two. Wonwoo lets out a growl and traces Joshua’s slender frame with his hands before slipping the detective’s shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly on the floor. His fingers press into every vertebra as they crawl up Joshua’s spine, and he has to admit, he likes the feeling of Joshua’s soft skin and strong back muscles. But it’s not anything Mingyu or Jeonghan, or even Hansol can’t give him.

 

Through half-lidded eyes, Joshua looks at the collar of Wonwoo’s shirt, open just enough that he can see a flash of that tattoo that’s been occupying his thoughts so intensely. He decides to put his pride aside, too tempted to take Wonwoo up on his offer and see the ink for himself. Shaky fingers reach up to unbutton the taller man’s shirt, and he’s met with a satisfied hum. Wonwoo’s lips find Joshua’s ear, nipping along the side of it. “Be careful,” he whispers. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

 

Joshua’s too impatient to heed Wonwoo’s warning. Once he’s unbuttoned about half of the shirt, he pulls the fabric aside. Just under Wonwoo’s right collarbone is a diamond, outlined in black ink. He brushes his fingertips over the spot and looks up at Wonwoo in question. “What does it mean?” he asks, the sparkle from Wonwoo’s diamond ring now catching his eye. 

 

All of this ‘diamond’ symbolism triggers something in the back of Joshua’s mind. It’s a name that’s been thrown here and there in conversation, ‘The Diamond’. A notorious drug lord that’s managed to leave behind absolutely no trace of himself. No one is sure how he’s done it, or more importantly, who he is, but everyone seems to know for a fact that he’s not just dangerous, but deadly. 

 

“Good question,” Wonwoo murmurs against Joshua’s lips. He pauses there for a second, as if trying to find any hint of reservation in Joshua’s expression. As much as he’d like to just send the detective away and get him out of his hair, he can also tell that Joshua’s getting suspicious. He saw the man whispering something to Mingyu earlier (he would have to personally deal with Mingyu later, he reminds himself), he saw the look on Joshua’s face when he saw the bracelet’s initials, and just now, he saw the intensity with which Joshua was studying his tattoo. Meticulous to a fault, Wonwoo didn’t want to jump the gun and risk exposing anything too early in the game, but he figures that, if he’s going to do this, now would probably be a good time. 

 

Wonwoo’s fingers touch Joshua’s face in a caress that’s almost gentle. “You know where this is going, don’t you?” he asks, voice low and hungry. 

 

Through lowered lashes, Joshua meets his gaze. Of course he knows. He’s known from the second he saw Jeon Wonwoo in the interrogation room that this would happen eventually. Yet, the reality of the situation frightens him. He wonders what the Chief would have to say about this, what the Academy would think of the fact that he’s about to sleep with his case informant. But the way Wonwoo’s caught his lower lip between his teeth makes Joshua weak. It’s like the man’s addictive or something; just one taste and he’s hooked for life. “I know exactly where this is going,” Joshua says with such certainty that it makes him shudder. He’s far too eager about this for his own good, and he wishes that they were just strangers in a hotel bar again, no strings attached.

 

Joshua loosely wraps his arms around Wonwoo’s waist and begins to leave a trail of light, sweet kisses down the other man’s neck. The last thing he expects is to feel Wonwoo’s muscles tense at the contact. He pulls away to see what could possibly be wrong, wondering what he could have done to set off someone like Wonwoo. 

 

“Don’t stop,” Wonwoo exhales, putting on a half hearted smirk and pressing Joshua’s hips harder against the wall. Despite all his outward confidence and charisma, there’s a horrible, empty feeling lurking in the back of his mind.  _ I haven’t been touched this gently in so long _ . It’s not that he wishes he had been, per se, but so much time had passed since he had been with someone who was genuinely affectionate with him. Wonwoo knew that it was probably his own doing, since no one would dare leave sugary butterfly kisses on the neck of an internationally feared drug lord, but he figures that Joshua only sees him as a businessman with an icy heart that just needs to be thawed out. The detective’s naivety is almost endearing, but it’s still not enough to make Wonwoo think twice about killing him, should the need arise.  _ Poor guy doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. _

 

Joshua smiles faintly and places his hand on Wonwoo’s chest, both to feel his skin and to see for himself if there’s a heart beating under there. Steadily, he leans in to kiss Wonwoo’s lips, curling his fingers around the man’s wrists and stroking his thumb over his knuckles. 

 

Wonwoo really does wish he could enjoy this. But the tenderness in Joshua’s touch is nearly sickening to him. He’s not the fragile boy he once was. He’s The Diamond. Unbreakable. “Are you scared you’re gonna break me or something?” Wonwoo laughs mockingly, looking down at Joshua’s dainty hand laced in his own. “If you want it gentle, you’re going to have to find someone else.” He doesn’t give Joshua time to answer before he takes Joshua’s hands and pins them on the wall above the detective’s head. His teeth drag across Joshua’s jaw, and he smirks against the golden skin as Joshua lets out a low groan. Joshua’s head tilts back against the wall to give Wonwoo better access.

 

He’s not sure why he lets Wonwoo litter his neck with dark, murky, bruises. The concern over whether people- specifically, his coworkers- will notice should have been enough reason for him to tell Wonwoo to stop. Maybe he’s scared to tell Wonwoo that, scared that Wonwoo will get angry and leave some more, not-so-nice bruises. Or maybe he doesn’t tell Wonwoo to stop because he doesn’t want Wonwoo to stop. If Joshua were to be completely honest, it hurts when Wonwoo bites at his neck. Wonwoo’s teeth are sharp, and his nails dig into the wrists he’s holding so tightly, and he doesn’t seem to care whether or not Joshua wants it. But there’s something so exciting about breaking the rules, and most importantly, his role as the perpetual good boy. His hazy one night stand with Wonwoo those years ago was by far his most reckless moment, and despite the guilt,  it always gave him this strange thrill whenever he recalled it. At this point, the thought of doing it again is too tempting to pass up on another high. 

 

“We,” Joshua pants, “Should probably go to your room.”

 

Wonwoo trails his hands down Joshua’s arms, resting them on the small of his back. He gives Joshua a smug smile, pointy white canines gleaming in the light. “Follow me,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Joshua’s pulse point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jihoon and minghao were right, as always.  
> but at least josh got a little bit of evidence... it's better than nothing...  
> if anything, he certainly knows wonwoo even better than he did before ;)
> 
> there will probably be about 2 chapters left, unless i go crazy and decide to add an epilogue or something, so be on the lookout!
> 
> yo yo yo come chat on tumblr @thesoapclub


	7. to fatal sounds of broken dreams

 

Pale hands skim across tanned skin, skin that’s probably never known bullets, or knives, or fists. Of this, Wonwoo is most certainly jealous. He doesn’t acknowledge it often, but the price of his wealth and power was a piece of him that he’ll never be able to recover. He’s not affected by it on a daily basis, but it’s times like these that make him wonder if he’s supposed to feel something. He would assume most people would be happy in this moment. Joshua’s curled up at his side, chest rising and falling with tranquil, sleepy breaths, hair tousled and lips swollen. But to Wonwoo, it’s disgusting. The peaceful look on Joshua’s face, blissfully ignorant of the unforgivable sins weighing on the conscience of the man lying next to him, mocks him. The day he got that diamond ring, he vowed to be feared, not loved. He doesn’t deserve love after what he’s done, especially since he doesn’t regret a thing. 

 

“Mr. Jeon?” Wonwoo’s eyes dart to the sliver of light flooding from the opened door. There’s a Mingyu-shaped shadow blocking the rest of the light from coming through, and Wonwoo instantly feels rage build up in his chest. 

 

“Get out,” he hisses, hands still on Joshua’s back. 

 

But the shadow doesn’t move. “Sir,” Mingyu whispers, “M-Mr. Yoon is here.”

 

Wonwoo stops breathing for a second. It would be annoying, but ultimately manageable to deal with Jeonghan on a normal day. It would be extremely frustrating to deal with Jeonghan when he’s angry about a missing shipment. It’s straight up suicide to have to deal with an angry Jeonghan when there’s a detective sleeping right next to him. “I’ll be right down,” he sighs, rolling out of the bed and blindly fumbling for his pants in the dark. He decides to just throw on a blazer- no shirt. He hopes it would provide a little distraction; Jeonghan really did like Wonwoo’s body. “Mingyu,” he whispers, pressing the taller man’s shoulder against the door frame, “Make sure Joshua doesn’t wake up.”

 

Mingyu’s eyes widen. “Y-You want me to kill him?”

 

“No.” Wonwoo bites his lip in thought, as if actually considering it. “No,” he says, more surely this time. “Not yet, at least. If the guy can convince the police that Junhui did it, then we don’t have anything to worry about.” He places a finger under Mingyu’s chin, fixing him with a cold stare. “But if Joshua wakes up, then I swear I will kill both of you.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Drug him if you need to, but only as a last resort. We wouldn’t want him getting suspicious,” Wonwoo warns, stepping away from Mingyu. “If I were you, I wouldn’t want to mess this up.” The familiar click of Wonwoo’s shoes echoes down the hallway, and for the third time that day, Mingyu wonders if he would be better off if Wonwoo had left him for dead that night. 

 

Mingyu closes the door softly behind him. It would be an understatement to say he hated Wonwoo’s bedroom. The place makes him sick just thinking about it. It’s a nice bedroom, with loads of really expensive stuff in it, but memories of things that happened there ruined the niceness of it for him. He really didn’t have a problem sleeping with Wonwoo- the man certainly knew what he was doing. It was the other things that happened in Wonwoo’s bedroom that scarred him, like the times when Wonwoo would scream at him when he messed up an order, or when he didn’t check the mail, or when he called him ‘Wonwoo’, or when he let a lightbulb in the house burn out. His boss always had a way of digging up the dirtiest bits of dirt when he was mad, details that Mingyu had no idea how Wonwoo could possibly know. 

 

Everyone says that words are the most painful thing of all, but Mingyu is certain that Wonwoo’s fist takes that title. The guy isn’t even particularly bulky. He has pronounced, defined muscles in certain areas, but on the whole, Wonwoo is pretty skinny. Mingyu wonders if that’s why his fist hurts so much, because it’s so bony. Either way, he can’t remember a single time that Wonwoo’s punched him that he hasn’t ended up bleeding somehow. Each time he sees Wonwoo winding up, he tries to convince himself that he’s been hit so many times it won’t hurt any more, and each time he ends up being wrong. Sometimes, Mingyu wonders if maybe Wonwoo really is justified, and he just needs a good dose of sense knocked into him. He figures he’ll never know.

 

“Joshua?” he whispers, walking towards the bed. “Joshua, are you okay?” He’s still not overly fond of Joshua’s job, but it really struck Mingyu when the detective seemed so concerned about his wellbeing and treatment. He also knows what Wonwoo’s capable of. Over the years he’s gotten used to Wonwoo’s roughness, but Joshua looked pretty delicate. He hopes Wonwoo didn’t break him, or worse.

 

The lump under the covers stirs slightly when Mingyu shoves it. “Wha…?” Joshua’s eyes blink a few times before his hands reach out to the spot where Wonwoo’s supposed to be. “Where did-”

 

“Shh,” Mingyu whispers, sitting down on the bed next to Joshua. “Please don’t make any noise or he’s going to-” He bites his tongue before saying too much.

 

“Where did Wonwoo go?” Joshua asks, much more quietly. “Why are you here?”

 

Mingyu pulls back the covers from on top of Joshua’s chest. It’s dark, but he can still see even darker bruises dotting Joshua’s neck and torso. “Holy shit,” he breathes, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

 

Joshua frowns as he covers his chest with the blanket again, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I’m fine. Why are you concerned about it?”

 

Mingyu knows he shouldn’t do this. He knows what the consequences will be if Wonwoo finds out. But he’s so sick of this cycle he’s stuck in. It’s one thing to be a drug lord, but being a drug lord’s- he’s not even sure what he is- means that he’s subjected to all the horrors and brutalities of that life, without any actual power or reward. And, quite frankly, Mingyu has had enough of it. “Wonwoo, he…” He takes a deep breath, hoping that God is willing to overlook his sins for a moment so he can get all this shit off his chest without being killed mid-sentence. “You don’t know Wonwoo. You have no idea who he is.”

 

Joshua’s fingers play with the corner of the blanket. He’s had his suspicions about Wonwoo since he got involved with this case, but either he has faith in Wonwoo’s innocence, or he’s been purposely trying to evade any nagging thoughts that Wonwoo might have a bigger role in this than he’s admitting. “Who is he, then?” Joshua’s eyes are wide, filled with not worry, but dread. He’s not worried that Wonwoo might have been behind this the whole time. He’s dreading having to face the fact.

 

“You’re a detective, yeah? You’ve probably heard of ‘The Diamond’, haven’t you?”

 

“The drug lord? Yes, I have.” Joshua’s voice breaks just slightly. “Y-you’re telling me that Wonwoo is…?”

 

Mingyu nods. “The Diamond is one of the world’s most powerful drug lords. He’s so good that the police barely have anything on him, much less on Jeon Wonwoo. What makes him so successful is not only the fact that he’s the owner of a pharmaceutical company, because-” Mingyu sighs, “Hello, instant access to every drug you could ever want- but the fact that he only sells to the rich and famous.” His expression darkens, and he looks Joshua straight in the eye. He doesn’t blame the man for not figuring it out; Wonwoo wouldn’t still be walking around freely is he wasn’t good at slipping through everyone’s fingers. But he would have liked to see that  _ someone _ was immune to Wonwoo’s smoke and mirrors. “You want to guess who his biggest customer was?”

 

“Kwon Soonyoung.” Joshua hated the confidence with which he guessed it. Everything had been laid out for him, right in front of his nose, and the only way he could figure it out is if someone gave away the answer. 

 

“Wonwoo arranged Junhui’s escape from prison to coincide with the time he had…”  _ The time he had me kill Soonyoung.  _ “When he had Soonyoung killed. That way, the police would automatically suspect Junhui, given the guy’s record, and Wonwoo could just go on about his daily life like nothing happened. Except when he got a call from the Chief Detective.”

 

Joshua closes his eyes. He’s not sure what he’s feeling at this point; there are so many emotions swirling inside him that it all ends up feeling numb. He’s furious that he was so blind not to see through Wonwoo. The man played him so easily and lured him into his trap with such success that Joshua questions why he’s even a detective at this point. It was so obvious, in Wonwoo’s behavior, in the little hints he dropped here and there, and yet Joshua just couldn't bring himself to suspect him. 

 

      Shame settles in. Had it been anyone else, Joshua would have probably figured the case out in a day, but no, it had to be Jeon Wonwoo. His sick infatuation with the man clouded all of Joshua’s judgement, corrupted all of his morals, and now got him into a situation he's not sure how he'll get out of. Plus, the realization that he just had sex with a murderer- no matter how great it was- crumbles his conscience. He really, really fucked this one up. 

 

Quickly, though, a much stronger emotion makes its way into Joshua’s brain. Fear. The obvious thing to do at this point would be to arrest Wonwoo and lock him up for good. But there’s one little problem. Joshua slept with him. And there’s no way Wonwoo wouldn’t bring that up at some point. Even if Wonwoo was still brought to justice, Joshua would undoubtedly lose his job. He wishes he were someone like Seungcheol, so committed to truth and honesty and integrity, but the thought of him losing that monthly paycheck is more horrifying than any moral dilemmas he would have to deal with. It’s not a nice reality, but at least it’s the truth, he figures.

 

“Wonwoo was planning on killing you if you found out,” Mingyu says gravely. 

 

That’s enough to set Joshua off. Fury, and rage, and guilt, and anxiety, and hurt build up in his chest to the point where he’s sure he’s going to combust. He’s the detective, the one supposed to be in charge, and yet Wonwoo really was the powerful one all along, manipulating Joshua like he was his pawn. 

 

The worst part was that he really did wish that Wonwoo was a good person, deep down. He wanted to be the one to unlock Wonwoo’s heart and show him what it’s like to love and be loved. He wanted to give Wonwoo the gentle kisses he knew the other secretly craved, as well as the burning, dangerous kisses that made his own head spin. He wanted to be there when Wonwoo went to bed, and when he woke up in the morning, and every moment in between…

 

Fuck, Joshua loved him.

 

It’s unreasonable and irrational, for sure, but Joshua can’t really deny it. He’s always fallen in love too easily, always ended with a broken heart. Every single time, the story was the same- some handsome man swept him off his feet one night (if he was lucky, it would even be more than one) then dropped him just as quickly the next. Joshua’s not sure what it is about him that’s made him so unlucky, but he chalks it up to the fact that he’s attracted to the wrong type of man. He had just hoped that Wonwoo would be different…

 

But he’s not, so at this point, he really only has one option. He doesn't want to have to do it, but it's as though a switch has flipped inside him, and all Joshua can see is red. The taste of revenge, he knows, is far more delicious than anything Wonwoo could offer. 

 

A dark grin dances on Joshua’s lips. “Mingyu, I asked you how you felt about Wonwoo earlier, and you seemed,” Joshua taps a finger to his chin, searching for the right words, “On edge. Is there a reason why?”

 

Mingyu notices a visible shift in Joshua’s body language. Just a few moments ago, the detective looked like he was about to cry or something, but now there’s this sinister look in his pretty doe eyes that makes Mingyu wonder what cracked. “Yes,” he confesses. “I was scared that Wonwoo would hear me. He doesn’t like it when the staff complain about him.”

 

“What would Wonwoo do to you if he heard you?” Joshua hates that he’s using Mingyu like this, but given the circumstances, it’s all he can do. 

 

Tension rises in the taller man’s shoulders, and for once, Joshua’s proud of his detective skills. He always did have a way with people… “Beat me, probably.” Mingyu says it so casually that it’s disturbing. “He might have killed me if he was in a bad mood, or if I actually said something bad about him.”

 

Joshua nods, feeling something that might even be elation. He’s not sure, but fuck, it feels good. “Do you hate Wonwoo?” he asks with a wide smile. 

 

Mingyu sucks in a deep breath. He knows what Joshua’s thinking, mostly because the same thought has been on his mind for quite some time. But there's strength in numbers, and if Joshua is willing to go for it, then damn it, so will he. “Yes.”

 

“Would you kill Wonwoo?”

 

“Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun. told y'all not to make any assumptions. in fact, i'm still telling you not to make any assumptions. so don't make any assumptions, ya hear?
> 
> don't worry, there's still a little bit more left. i promise i won't leave you hanging *too much.* i'm not that evil.
> 
> in the meantime (shameless self plug), feel free to check out my other, much less wild fic, to shatter a diamond.
> 
> i love y'all. with alllll my heart. thanks so much for reading, commenting, and just being lovely.   
> <3 hedgehogwatch


	8. between the shades assassination standing still

Mingyu holds his breath as he tiptoes across the hallway. He’s almost certain Wonwoo couldn’t hear him, considering he was on the other end of the house, but he can never tell. The man is full of surprises. Ninety-nine percent of him- well, ninety-eight percent- resents his own position in this household as Wonwoo’s personal punching bag. But right now, one percent of him is grateful that his boss trusts him enough to give him a copy of the key to his supply room. It makes his coup d’etat much easier, since he has access to Wonwoo’s most lethal weapon, a little powder simply called ‘Compound 17’. 

 

The remaining one percent of him thinks it’s a shame that things would have to end this way. Wonwoo really was a good kisser, among other things.

 

He had seen the effects of Compound 17 with his own eyes, when Wonwoo would bring him in to observe testing down at the Jeontec labs. Each experience was more harrowing than the next. Some people screamed and cried in agony, others claimed they were seeing heaven or something. The rest just died, right there on the spot. That was the thing about Compound 17: even .001 microgram too much was the difference between life and death. Either way, those nights in the lab were among the most chilling moments in Mingyu’s memory, and that was saying a lot. The way Wonwoo just watched and took notes made him beyond sick, and simply remembering that stone-cold face was enough to justify what he was about to do.

 

The key to the supply room is one of those old skeleton keys that most people just frame nowadays. But Wonwoo just has to be unusual, he supposes. Unlike the key, the room itself isn’t anything special. The walls are plain white, with matching white tile floors, and chilly industrial lights shine down on rows upon rows of metal cabinets. If his memory serves him right, Compound 17 should be stored in the cabinet that’s three rows to the left, and four cabinets to the back, in the thirteenth drawer from the top. Mingyu presses his body against the back of the cabinets as he makes his way through the maze. Should anything go wrong, the last thing he wants is for Wonwoo to end up seeing the security footage of him sneaking in. Even if he tried to claim that he was getting a drug to sedate Joshua, Wonwoo would know from the class of drugs in the cabinet he’s rummaging through that he was planning something much more serious. 

 

A dime bag labeled ‘Compound 17’ sits alone in the drawer, looking no more harmful than powdered sugar. Mingyu picks it up with careful fingers, and the realization that he’s holding Jeon Wonwoo’s pride and joy, the magnum opus he’s been developing for three years, in his very hands gives him chills. He’s watched Wonwoo ripping through textbooks at 3 AM, sitting at his desks with figures of molecules and scrawled notes of numbers and Latin words. He’s seen Wonwoo smashing glasses in frustration, and once he even thought he saw him cry over a failed result. 

 

The only thing more dangerous than a drug lord is a drug lord that knows what he’s doing. The only thing more dangerous than a drug lord that knows what he’s doing is a drug lord that can make his own drugs. The only thing more dangerous than that is Jeon Wonwoo.

 

And he’s about to murder him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay this chapter is reeeeeeally short, i know. but i didn't want to attach it to the last chapter, so i'm sorry. pls don't kill me. the last chapter (ik it makes me so sad that this is over) should be coming soooon, so keep your eyes out!
> 
> and, just a side note, all of the chapter titles are from the song 'a view to a kill' from the james bond movie of the same name. 
> 
> find me on the internets! just surf the World Wide Web and look up @thesoapclub on http://www.tumblr.com! it's easy and free!
> 
> thanks x10000000 for reading this. your sweet comments mean the world to me.  
> get some good sleep and have an awesome week,  
> hedgehogwatch


	9. when all we see is the view to a kill

Wonwoo slips back inside his bedroom, careful not to be too loud so as to wake Joshua. The detective is sleeping soundly under the covers, and Wonwoo lets out a sigh, both completely burned out from his visit with Jeonghan, and thankful that he has a warm bed to lay back down in. He throws off his blazer and takes off his pants before settling in the bed. Joshua’s head nuzzles against Wonwoo’s chest affectionately, fingers lightly running down the taller man’s abdominals.

 

“I missed you,” Joshua murmurs. “It was so cold without you next to me.” His arms wrap around Wonwoo’s neck, and he peppers soft kisses along Wonwoo’s jaw. There are fresh marks blooming against the fair skin, ones that Joshua didn’t have the pleasure of making. Even though he knew very well that it shouldn’t matter- Wonwoo was about to die, it still infuriates him to know that the object of his affections was just with someone else, not even a day after they had slept together. 

 

Wonwoo isn’t quite sure what to say. He’s never had to respond to something like this in his entire life. He can’t exactly say, ‘I missed you, too,’ because he didn’t really miss Joshua, nor can he apologize, because he has nothing to be sorry for. “I’m here now,” is the best he can offer. 

 

Joshua kisses the corner of Wonwoo’s mouth and rests his head on the younger’s shoulder. “I’m glad.” He wants to ask where Wonwoo went off to, but the hazy look in his eyes, his messed-up hair, and the obvious hickeys on his neck do a good enough job of telling the story on their own. “You seem stressed,” Joshua hums, carding his fingers through Wonwoo’s hair. “Can I get you a drink?”

 

“Tell me about it,” Wonwoo scoffs. “Late-night work call, you know how those are,” he lies, kissing Joshua’s shoulder.

 

Joshua nods and rolls over so he can get out of the bed. “Ah, those are no fun,” he smiles. He has to physically stop himself from running over to the wooden bar in the corner of the room, he’s so excited. Adrenaline courses through his veins with every step, and in that moment he’s positive that the thrill of murder is a more satisfying high than that of any drug. “What can I get you?” he asks, voice trembling with exhilaration. 

 

“Shit, I need something hard,” Wonwoo groans, sprawling out on the bed. “Some vodka, I guess.”

“Certainly.” Joshua’s hands shake as they reach for two glasses. This is it, he reminds himself with a chuckle. He opens the bottle and pours the clear liquid into the glasses, and his heart tremors erratically in his chest as he removes the bag from where he’d hidden it in the cabinet. With unblinking eyes, he watches the powder fall into the drink, grinning brightly as it dissolves without a trace. It may have been a little excessive for him to pour nearly the entire bag in there, but Joshua figures he might as well go big or go home. That way there’s no room for error. 

 

Joshua bounces over to the bed and holds out the glass for Wonwoo to take, and he has to fight the urge to laugh maniacally when he grabs it from his hand. “Thank you,” Wonwoo says, raising the glass to his lips. 

 

The detective watches with baited breath as Wonwoo takes a sip, like a child waiting to open his Christmas presents. There’s a moment of calm stillness, only the faint buzz of the air conditioning breaking the silence, before Wonwoo chokes. He gasps for air with ragged, agonizing breaths, his beautiful face turning deathly pale. 

 

Joshua beams. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know you wanted to be the one to do this, but,” he sighs, wiping the tears from the corners of Wonwoo’s watering eyes, “Sometimes life isn’t fair. For instance, when poor Junhui got framed for your crime. That wasn’t very fair, was it?” He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in mock pity. “And then when you tried to trick that clueless detective into believing that it really was Junhui behind it all,” his mouth twists into a scowl. “That wasn’t just not very fair, it was not very nice.”

 

Strangled gasps leave Wonwoo’s mouth as he looks up at Joshua, eyes glassy. His lips form the question, “Why?” but no sounds come.

 

“Why?” Joshua laughs, reaching down to twist a strand of Wonwoo’s hair between his fingers. “It was either you or me, Wonwoo. And it wasn’t gonna be me,” he whispers. “I know you had plans to kill me. Mingyu told me everything. I guess your men aren’t as loyal as you thought.” He tilts his head to the side as Wonwoo’s breathing slows, still smiling wickedly. “That Compound 17 really is something, huh? You must be so proud to be able to see the effects of your hard work firsthand.” He picks up Wonwoo’s icy hand and slips the sparkling diamond ring off his finger, placing it on his own hand. “Hm, a perfect fit. Too bad The Diamond got shattered,” he muses, admiring the way it glitters in the moonlight. 

 

_ Now, I get it, why Wonwoo killed Soonyoung. ‘Cause it feels so great, the rush of revenge, the satisfaction of knowing that you’ve won against all odds. A few minutes ago, I didn’t give the slightest fuck about justice, but now I think I get what all the fuss is about.  It’s humbling, to see someone as powerful as Wonwoo killed by his own weapon. It gives hope to those of us that feel cheated out of their fortune that justice isn’t dead. Not yet, at least.  _

 

_ I lean down and press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek. It’s freezing cold, just like the rest of him. To be honest, I think the man looks a little prettier with some color in his face, but that’s just my opinion.  _

 

_ Will I miss him? Maybe. I don’t worry too much, though. We’ll be seeing each other in Hell very soon, anyway.  _

 

_ “Sleep well, Angel Face,” I whisper as I take a sip of my own drink. _

 

-end-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, folks... there it is!
> 
> upset? wanting more drug lord wonwoo?  
> well guess what.  
> (psst, my obsessive ass is working on a *prequel*, so get hyped!)
> 
> honestly, though, it means sooo much to me to hear all of your thoughts on this fic! it started out as a really crazy idea, but evolved into something that was actually really enjoyable to write. i hope you'll stick around for the prequel! a million thanks to all of you for inspiring me to keep writing, and thank you again to TheJuniorRoyals for being so understanding <3\. i hope you all enjoyed this!!!
> 
> as always, here's the mandatory self promo. come celebrate the fact that i actually finished a fic w me on tumblr @thesoapclub
> 
> sooooo much love (and even more love),  
> hedgehogwatch
> 
> EDIT:  
> soo... i've posted the first part of the prequel (called die another day, keeping w the bond theme here), so feel free to go check that one out! it focuses more on wonwoo and his wild life, so prepare to buckle up once again! love every single one of you and all of your sweet comments <3


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